Delirium - 44th Hunger Games (SYOT)
by GalacticAura
Summary: Happy Hunger Games! Following the death of her grandfather, the grief-stricken President Aria Poudretteite is ready to make the first Hunger Games of her career one to remember. The Capitol is guranteeing these games to be the most brutal, entertaining, action packed games yet...and quite possibly the bloodiest. Could your tribute be the one to emerge victorious? (SYOT Open)
1. Basic Info

**Prologue**

Aria had never truly appreciated her grandfather's heartbeat. But now, as she listened to it on the heart monitor, struggling to emanate that ever-so-familiar thrum-thrum...she wished she had.

"Grampa..." Her tone was hoarse and weakened from hours of fearful sobbing, and even now the persistent tears clouded her vision. "Grampa, can...can you hear me?"

The president's tired eyes slowly creaked open, his age-worn gaze coming to rest on Aria's youthful face.

"Yes, Aria." It pained the young lady how frail his voice was, as if it could break at any moment. "I'm here." A wheezy breath escaped his body.

Just for a moment, Aria allowed herself to glance down at the IV inserted into his right arm, which was feverishly pumping clear fluid into his veins.

" _We're not able to do anything but lessen the pain, miss."_ The doctors had told her. " _He's too far gone to save."_

 _"_ Aria, my dear, look at me." The President somehow found the strength within him to raise a vein-riddled hand to his granddaughter's cheek, his fingers sliding easily along the tear-soaked skin. "I have a request."

She leaned into her grandfather's comforting grasp, brushing the tears away from her eyes so as to focus on him better. "What is it, Grampa?"

He took a shaky breath. "Aria, when I'm gone-" A quiet squeak escaped Aria's lips, yet her grandfather continued. "When I'm gone...you will take my place as President. And, there is, of course...the matter of the upcoming Hunger Games."

Aria of course didn't like the mention of such a brutal event in the heat of this moment, but she stifled her emotions in favor of listening to her grandfather's final words.

She sniffled, wiping a thin trail of mucus from her upper lip. "What of it, Grampa?"

"Surely you remember what those...those _rebels_ did to our Utopia." At the word 'rebel', the dying man's lip curled, as if he'd just tasted something particularly unpleasant. "Of course I remember, Grampa. Who could forget?"

"That makes my final request simple, then." The old man shifted in the hospital bed, removing his hand from Aria's cheek to prop himself up on his gaunt elbows. Slowly, he leaned inwards, until his nose was inches from his Aria's.

Aria's wide, tear-flecked eyes searched her grandfather's aged face, from his wispy white hair to the wrinkles folding around his eyelids.

"What is it, Grampa?" She finally asked, in a tone not much louder than a whisper.

Her grandfather's century-old eyes bore into her own, and he uttered his final words:

" _Give them hell_."

* * *

 **And so our story begins! Welcome, ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary beauties, to the 44th annual Hunger Games! Overseen by the grief-stricken President Aria Poudretteite, these games are sure to be the most eventful of them all...and quite possibly the bloodiest.**

 **Before I give you the requirements for submitting your tribute(s), I have a few requests you should keep in mind...**

 **\- Make your characters diverse! It's not a potluck if you only serve one dish...that being said, don't be afraid to make your tributes different! Unique ethnicities, sexualities, and personality traits are always encouraged. An arena filled with white, heterosexual, blond, able-bodied, mentally healthy tributes will make for a boring show.**

 **\- No one is perfect! Make sure your tributes have flaws along with their strengths, and ones that would be expected based on who they are.**

 **\- Put some effort into their backstory and personality! An interesting backstory and personality makes for an interesting tribute, which will thus result in more interest from sponsors.**

 **\- This is not a 'first come, first serve' Hunger Games. The tributes who have the most potential to be added to the story will be picked over their competitors, so that all the tributes may orchestrate into a fantastic tale. Once again, put effort into the backstory!**

 **-Please do not send in Bloodbath Tributes. I plan to prove them myself so that you all may focus on making your tributes the best they can be! Plus, it's a bit difficult to manage too many people, as I hate to admit. I will also provide mentors and escorts, for the same reasons as listed above. This doesn't mean that all tributes will escape from the bloodbath unscathed, however. Some may suffer serious injuries, but no tributes other than the Bloodbaths I've created will die right there at the Cornucopia.**

 **\- Tributes submitted in the story comments will be not be accepted. No exceptions.**

 **If you have any further questions, don't be afraid to shoot me a PM!**

 **And now, the tribute information!**

* * *

Name -

Age -

District -

Volunteered (if so, for who and why)? -

Family/Relationships? -

Ethnicity -

Preferred Pronouns:

Gender Orientation -

Romantic Orientation -

Height -

Weight -

Appearance -

Backstory -

Personality -

Mental Disabilites? -

Physical Disabilites? -

Strengths -

Weaknesses -

Weapon of Choice -

Strategy -

Open to Allies? -

Proffered Death (not required) -

Reaping Outfit (not required) -

Interview Outfit (not required) -

Token (not required) -

Fun Fact (not required) -

 **You may submit up to 5 tributes!**

 **FYI: The 'Proffered Death' is not a guaranteed way your tribute will die, I like to make those a surprise. It simply tells us a little more about the tribute and gives us a great insight as to what kind of person they are.**

 **And now, the Sponsorship System!**

* * *

Sponsorship System

Each tribute submitted and accepted is worth 20 points

Each tribute of yours that dies earns you 20 points

Each story comment is worth 10 points

Each tribute that your tribute kills earns you 10 points

Sending in a Parade Outfit suggestion earns 10 points

Sending in an arena suggestion earns 10 points

* * *

 **The sponsorship system will work fairly similar to the one used in the real Hunger Games. You may begin sponsoring the day the games begin, and the prices for items will increase as the games go on. You may sponsor any tributes you like, including your own, though it's more fun if you sponsor others alongside your own. When the games begin, simply send me a DM stating who you'd like to sponsor, and we can work out a price for the items you wish to send there.**

 **Now, back to the tributes. My bio will be regularly updated, showing how many tributes have been submitted for each tribute spot (ex: how many submissions I've received for District 4 female, etc. Remember, this is not first come first served!)**

 **If you have any other questions, please send me a PM! Happy Hunger Games!**


	2. Tribute Example, Answered Questions

**4/19/16**

 **Hey everyone! I've been receiving a lot of great tribute submissions lately, and I thought I should fill out an example tribute for those who are curious, or just need a little creative inspiration. This is my District 2 Bloodbath Tribute, so she's a goner. Don't worry 'bout her.**

* * *

Name - Alia Gaajra

Age - 15

District - 1

Volunteered (if so, for who and why)? - Alia volunteered for a younger girl who was reaped (Raina-Quinn Opelle, 12), because she believed that younger girl wasn't matured enough to actually stand a chance in winning the Games for her district. If someone's gotta go, it should be someone older. (Little did she know, she was also doomed herself. Whoops.)

Family/Relationships? - Mother, 25. Kind and understanding, yet strong-willed. No siblings. Dating Zylvia Tyranne, also 15. Sweet, spunky, rebellious.

Ethnicity - Indian

Preferred Pronouns - She/Her

Gender Orientation - Cisgender girl

Romantic Orientation - Lesbian

Height - 5'8"

Weight - 115 lbs (68 kg)

Appearance - Tall and fairly muscular, with a thin, pointed face. Wide emerald-green eyes flecked with gold. Plump, defined lips. Thick, bushy black hair, usually kept in a ponytail.

Backstory - Her mother became pregnant with Alia at age 15, before her Father was reaped for the Hunger Games at age 16. He never returned from the arena, and Alia's mother was left with his fortune to raise her daughter single-handedly. Alia has accepted that her father wasn't strong enough to return from the arena, and has trained herself harshly so that she may not suffer the same fate in the arena, should she ever be sent in. She was raised rich, so she was able to afford expensive training equipment which allowed her to be properly prepared for The Hunger Games. (But little did she know...)

Personality - Like her mother, Alia is strong-willed and brave. She doesn't sit and cry about troubles that cross her path, she simply finds a way to overcome them and continues on stronger than before. It's very difficult to make her lose her spirit, as she's very determined to escape the arena alive. Her instinct for survival seems to be a big part of her mindset.

Mental Disabilites? - N/A

Physical Disabilites? - N/A

Strengths - Strong, knows how to kill, able to stomach gory sights, not easily winded, swift, brutish.

Weaknesses - Unable to swim, can't climb trees, inexperienced in surviving in varying climates, can't identify edible plants.

Weapon of Choice - Sledgehammer

Strategy - Ally with the careers, and run off whenever necessary, taking with her some supplies.

Open to Allies? - Yes, the careers.

Proffered Death (not required) - She's a bloodbath tribute.

Reaping Outfit (not required) - Simple black, long-sleeved shirt with loose-fitting black jeans. Her hair is tied back in a black ribbon.

Interview Outfit (not required) - Simple black tuxedo with white undershirt. Hair is loose and floofy.

Token (not required) - An intricate ankle bracelet made of many silver wires that her mother made for her. It is interwoven with tiny, delicate diamonds.

Fun Fact (not required) - She has been in love with Zylvia since she was 10.

* * *

 **Optional (but highly, highly recommended) would be your tribute's reaction to being reaped, and their interview strategy. Those things simply make my job easier.**

 **Also, I've been getting quite a few questions as to when the first chapter will be up. Since this is not a first-come-first-served Hunger Games, I'll be choosing the 'best' tributes for each position, based on which district their submitter applied for. The only way to get the chapters to come faster is to keep sending in tributes!**

 **Hope this helped!**


	3. Tributes Due

**4/22/16**

 **Hey hey hey! It's me again, with some very exciting news! I've decided upon a deadline for tribute submissions, which will be in two days: April 24th. While this is a set deadline, I will make a few exceptions if you simply explain your situation to me. Any tributes positions left unfilled will become victims of the ever-so-heartbreaking bloodbath.**

 **Like I said earlier, I will make exceptions, though...if all other tribute positions are filled, you may apply for a tribute position that is marked for the Bloodbath, if I haven't posted that district's chapter by then. If you have any questions, simply send me a PM.**

 **The tribute positions with 0 current submissions are:**

 **District 1 Male**

 **District 3 Male**

 **District 6 Male**

 **District 6 Female**

 **District 8 Female**

 **District 9 Male**

 **District 11 Female**

 **District 12 Male**

 **I ask that if you are to submit a tribute, please send them in to one of the above positions. At this point, submitting a tribute to a position that has already been applied for would be a waste, but if this is what you really want to do I won't stop you. Remember, this is about having fun! Well, that and viciously murdering other children in cold blood...but mostly fun!**

 **On another note, I've been creating some sketches of the arena, and I really think you guys are going to like it. It has a slight urban twist to it, yet it still poses the same threats as any other arena. I've even found a way to bring some psychology into its terrain and design, which is a twist I hope everyone adores. I know I will!**

Tributes are officially due April 24th! Save the date!


	4. Finalized' Tributes

**4/23/16**

 **Hey everyone! One last announcement before I start uploading Reaping Chapters; if you plan to submit a tribute after this chapter is posted, you may only submit it to a position that has 0 entrants. Tributes entered to any position that already has one entrant or more. **

**I would also like to announce the chosen tributes for all the given positions!**

 **District 1 Male – Roshan Savera**

 **District 1 Female – Emerald Shine**

 **District 2 Male – Argus Naggia**

 **District 2 Female – Bloodbath**

 **District 3 Male – 0 entrants**

 **District 3 Female – Bloodbath**

 **District 4 Male – Oceanus Dock**

 **District 4 Female – Sky Naggia**

 **District 5 Male – Colin Sparke**

 **District 5 Female – Tully Floe**

 **District 6 Male – Aran Miller**

 **District 6 Female – 0 entrants**

 **District 7 Male – Bloodbath**

 **District 7 Female – Rowntree Rigley**

 **District 8 Male – Xander Zabini**

 **District 8 Female – 0 entrants**

 **District 9 Male - 0 entrants**

 **District 9 Female – Trisha Collins**

 **District 10 Male – Bloodbath**

 **District 10 Female – Chloe Blair**

 **District 11 Male – Thatcher Seed**

 **District 11 Female – Caritta Blake**

 **District 12 Male – Burnet Everdeen**

 **District 12 Female – Lise Curie**

 **If you plan to submit a tribute, please send them in to one of the districts that is listed as having '0 entrants'. Any tributes submitted to filled positions will be asked to switch districts, and any unfilled positions will be turned into Bloodbath tributes.**

 **I also have a slight announcement concerning the Bloodbath tributes; these tributes will not be given Reaping Chapters, or any sort of chapters concerning their character. Mostly because it's quite pointless to write chapters about a character that was simply created to die, and because the effort used to do so would be very pointless. I want to start writing about the more important tributes immediately, so the Bloodbath tributes will only have their character shown through the eyes of other characters. To be totally honest, I don't think I'd have the will to write about an unimportant character, either.**

 **District 1's reaping chapter will be uploaded shortly after this! I hope you all enjoy.**


	5. District 1 Reaping

**The Presidential Mansion**

 **12:15 AM**

"Good morning, President Aria!"

The newly-appointed president had just emerged from her bedchambers, clad in a silken bathrobe with intricate floral patterns. Her blonde hair was glossy and well-kept as a result of the luxuries that came with the mansion, and she appeared to be very well rested.

"Good morning, Peter. I'll have eggs benedict today, with a side dish of fruit, pancakes, and hashbrowns" said the President to her servant.

The meek servant swept himself into a humbling bow. "Of course, my lady. And for your choice beverage?"

Aria gave a faint smile. "White sparkling wine, please. Something creamy and rich."

Though it was hardly noon, the ever-so-loyal servant said nothing about his mistress's odd request, and rushed down the hallway to the kitchen.

When the clacking footsteps of the servant's polished shoes faded away, Aria released a breath and slumped against her door, admiring the area around her. She hadn't grown used to calling this mansion her own yet, or sleeping in the bed that once belonged to her grandfather. Though the presidential mansion did have its perks-luxurious furniture, an elegant wardrobe consisting of only the best clothing, and servings doting on her every order (which Aria particularly liked)-she couldn't deny that this mansion felt a bit alien. The whole grandeur of the place cast an unwanted aura over Aria, which made her feel unwanted in her own house.

The President sighed, deciding that these feelings would fade away soon enough, and chose instead to focus upon the day's events. It was what, noon, perhaps an hour after? That meant that every reaping in every district had likely concluded already, and her cargo was being sent to the Capitol at this very moment. The thought sent shivers up her spine...in a matter of weeks, she'd be able to fulfill her grandfather's dying wish.

The smell of freshly-cooked meat began to waft throughout the hallways, and Aria followed it to the dining room. Atop the crystalline table was a buffet of the finest foods, her main dish of request placed before a straight-backed chair padded with white cloth. The President's mouth began to water at the sight, and she quickly sat down to enjoy the meal. No sooner had she started that Peter darted back up to her side again, hands folded with the oddest smile on his face.

"D-do you like it, miss?" He asked, stuttering a bit.

Aria wiped the edges of her mouth with a cloth napkin. "Of course, Peter, it's marvelous." She then caught sight of her glass of wine, which glimmered in the sunlight, anc proceeded to sip daintily from it.

"Peter, darling?"

Aria didn't miss the slight blush that traveled across his face at the word.

"Y-yes, ma'am?"

She smirked at the servant, knowing good and well exactly how loyal he was to her.

"Play today's readings. You have them pre-recorded, I presume?"

He nodded hastily. "O-of course, ma'am! Right away, ma'am!" He skittered over to the nearby television, turning it on and playing the first recording of the day; the Reaping of District 1.

Aria smirked, swirling the glass of wine in hand. Today was going to be fun.

* * *

 **Roshan Savera**

 **District 1 Male**

 **Age: 16**

 **7:32 AM**

"...and get Roshan, too...where is he..? Roshan? Oh lord, don't tell me he's still..." A tall, aging woman slammed open her son's door, gasping at the sight before her; the boy was still fast asleep, facing the wall which his finely-made bed sat against.

"Roshan, why aren't you awake? You should've been up half an hour ago!" She delivered a slight slap to his forehead, which effectively jolted the boy up in his bed. His black hair was ruffled and unkept from sleep, and a slight line of dried drool trailed down his face towards his chin. He blinked his brown eyes sleepily at his mother, apparently unaware of her urgency.

"Mommm, why've I gotta get up so early?" Roshan groaned, stretching his arms above his head.

"It's reaping day, Roshan! I've been telling you that every day for the past week!"

At the words 'reaping day', a newfound energy seemed to fill Roshan's body. He leapt quickly out of bed, dashing to his wardrobe and stripping off his nightshirt and pants.

"I'm so sorry, mom!" He pulled a gray T-shirt over his head, admiring his hair in the nearby mirror. He snorted, quickly smoothing out the wild locks.

"Well, you should be." She turned her nose towards the ceiling. "Your sister was ready ten minutes ago."

"She's a light sleeper!" Shouted Roshan in his own defense, tugging on his jeans. "You know I sleep like a rock."

His mother sighed, pressing two fingers to her temple.

"Oh, Roshan?"

He spun around. "Yes?"

She held our her hand. In her palm was the smallest photograph Rashan had ever seen. It portrayed Rashan, his mother, his father, and his sister, who were all smiling gleefully as they embraced one another.

"It's your token. You're going to volunteer, right?"

Of course, she wasn't asking if he'd been having second thoughts. Of course he had been. But if Roshan were to say so, that wouldn't change anything. His parents and his sister had already pressured him into volunteering, and they'd been so firm in their wishes that there was no turning back now. It wasn't that Roshan thought he couldn't survive the arena...even at the young age of 16, he excelled in the training academy. But who in their right mind would actually _want_ to go into a life-or-death situation.

Roshan stomached his complaints and took the photograph from his mother, storing it in the pocket of his jeans.

"Thanks, mom. It's great."

He was taken by surprise when his mother suddenly took him into a strong hug, burying her head in the crook of his neck. After a moment, she pulled herself away and looked right into her son's eyes, smiling excitedly.

"Dad and I are so proud of you, Roshan."

Of course, those words absolutely melted his heart, considering how unoften he heard them. In that instant, Roshan's mind was made up about volunteering, and he wordlessly signified his choice to his mother with a smile.

"Thanks, mom."

Only the richest of the rich in District 1 could afford a car, so when the Savera family piled into their shiny red automobile and started cruising down the street, pedestrians started to stare. Roshan hoped he could've stared out the window for the duration of the ride without being interrupted, but his sister quickly squashed that plan.

"So, you still volunteering?"

Roshan shrugged, in an effort to avoid a full-on conversation with the sister that was constantly on his back.

Still, she persisted. "You're not going to? Mom and dad and I said you have to. You agreed, remember? You have to-"

"Yes, I'm going to, Anika, now can you please give me some peace and quiet?" He snapped at her, gazing in satisfaction at the surprise on her face.

"...Well, you don't have to yell." She scoffed.

"And _you_ don't have to nag me all the time."

Anika flipped her hair. "It's not 'nagging'. I'm the older sister. I'm nineteen. I'm a legal adult, and I can tell you what to do."

"Considering that you're the one who was too 'sick' to volunteer last year, and that I'm the one who's actually going through with it, I think we can see who's really the superior here." Roshan narrowed his eyes at his sister, who seemed to be searching the depths of her brain for a clever comeback.

"Well, you never-"

"Anika, Roshan, stop it!" Their father scolded, and the two instantly ceased their quarrel. "We're here, and I expect you two to behave like model citizens when we leave this this car. Got it?"

"Yes, dad." Said the two in unison, as they exited the parked car. Before them all was the entrance to the reaping, which was flooded with finely-dressed citizens making their way to their respective positions.

"Alright, Roshan." Roshan's father placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Your mother, Anika, and I are going to head into the spectator's booths. We'll get to see you shortly after the reaping before you head out, but since we're all here now..." Roshan was swept into his second hug of the day, this one much more rib-crushing than the first. The pressure was only increased when his mother joined the huddle, along with Anika, who did so quite reluctantly. Once Roshan was released, struggling to take air into lungs, his father gave him a quick pat on the back and left, Anika and his mother following suit.

And so, Roshan was alone.

"Alright, Roshan, deep breaths. You're alright." He took in a breath of fresh air, and slowly let it out. "Just some pre-reaping jitters," He muttered, as he slowly walked through the reaping gates. Through the crowd, he could see the two lines that served as blood-testing verification stands, and he was quickly able to find his way to the back of the boys' line.

As the line progressed, Roshan couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness in his stomach. What would lie beyond him once he left his home? What if he didn't come back from whatever arena he was forced into? At this moment, Roshan was fully absorbing the reality that he may very well die-yes, _die_ -if he were to volunteer. At this idea, his stomach tied itself into a knot, and his breathing became more labored. Oh god, what was he doing? He couldn't do this, it was madness-

"Hand."

Roshan looked up with a start, to find a doctorly-looking Capitolite extended a gloved hand towards him. He absentmindedly gave it to her and jumped at the sting he received in his thumb, something he'd never done in the years prior. The Capitolite shoved him aside, where he was then corralled by peacekeepers towards the section of the shrine E where the other sixteen-year-old boys sat, waiting for the escort to emerge from backstage.

Roshan glanced around at his surroundings. Surrounding him were brutish-looking boys with cold, lifeless gazes, who looked more like wild animals than humans. Each one of them seemed fairly relaxed, or even excited at the prospect of being 'the one'. They were bloodthirsty beasts, all of them...

" _What am I doing here?"_ Whispered Roshan, glancing wildly about. He couldn't willingly offer himself into the hands of the Capitol! That would lead him towards certain death! No, no, he couldn't volunteer...but what would his family say? He remembered how proud they'd been when he announced he was volunteering, and how overwhelmingly supportive they were...what would he tell them?

Then, Roshan remembered a key detail in his situation; the oldest a tribute can be is 18. Roshan was only 16. That was it! He could just tell his family that he wanted to wait j till he was 18, and then he'd have two more years to train! Imagine how much he would improve by then...winning the games would be a breeze!

At last, Roshan felt himself relax. He was going to be fine. He was staying right here, at home.

"Good morning, District 1!" Roshan's head snapped upwards, and he nearly cringed at the escort onstage. She was dressed in a flouncy sundress, stitched together with the brightest neon colors known to man. Just looking at it made Roshan's eyes water.

"This is Belinda Baubles, coming to you all the way from the Capitol! This year, two lucky ducks here will be chosen for the Hunger Games, alongside the chance to bring pride to your family...and your district!' She smiled, and a roar of enthusiastic cheering soared throughout the area.

"Wow, aren't you excited? Well, let's get to it, shall we? Ladies first!" Belinda placed the microphone back on its stand and strutted over to the crystalline ball, which was clearly marked 'ladies'. Her five-inch nails searched around for a bit, brushing against some slips of paper, weighing her options for a moment before finally selecting a slip. The audience tensed as Belinda proudly walked back to the mic, relishing in the attention of all that surveyed her.

"Ahem.." She glanced over the crowd for a half-second, drinking in the scene, before calling out, "Glitt Barrows!"

"I volunteer!"

No sooner had Glitt's name had been called, a girl thrust her first up into the sky and proudly proclaimed herself. Quickly, she rushed down her aisle and up to the stage, smiling in glee as her golden hair floated in the breeze behind her. The young lady took her place to the right to Belinda excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Ooh my, eager, aren't we? Young lady, might you tell us your name?" Belinda raised the microphone to the girl's lips.

"Emerald Shine!" She proudly proclaimed. "And I'm so, so thrilled to be here today!"

Belinda gave her an artifical-looking smile. "And we're thrilled to have _you_ , Emerald." She turned back towards the crowd, this time eyeing down the boys' side.

"And now, the boys." As she strutted to the second crystal bowl, Roshan glanced around at the boys near him. Any of them would make a decent tribute, he just felt partially sorry for the boy that would have to go into the arena with that crazy-looking girl.

Belinda wasted no time picking a slip, and this time plucked the nearest slip of paper closest to her from the bowl. Paper in hand, she hurried back to the mic and held the slip up to the sunlight, reciting its name for all to hear:

"Roshan Savera!"

Everything around Roshan went dead silent. His brain didn't seem to be functioning properly.

 _My name...she just said my name..._

He was stiff as a board, unmoving, pale and lifeless. The boys around him began to back away so as to single him out in the crowd, sizing him up and gazing at him with confusion.

"Roshan, dear, there you are!" Chirped Belinda, whose voice snapped Roshan back to life. His first instinct was to run, but if he'd learned anything in training, it was that he must not show weakness. So, Roshan took a shaky breath and tried his best to stomach his fears as he meandered up to the stage, nearly tripping numberous times.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the female tribute was eyeing down every inch of his body, with an animalistic, hungry gleam in her eye. For half a second, she glanced upwards and their gazes interlocked, and Emerald quickly ran a slickened tongue over her lips...a sight that sent cold shivers up Roshan's spine. Hurriedly, he tore his gaze away from her and took his place next to Belinda, searching the audience for his family or any possible volunteers to get him out of this nightmare come true.

"Here we have them, District 1's tributes!" Belinda proudly called, and a sickening applause burst through the area. People whooped snd hollered and cheered, pleased at this year's chosen tributes.

An inkling of hope trickled into Roshan. If his fellow tributes thought he could survive the arena, those who had trained longer and harder than he ever had...perhaps he truly did have what it takes?

Roshan suddenly found himself shoved offstage by an overbearing peacekeeper, and into a quiet little room decorated with a loveseat and a simple armchair. Quickly, he plunked himself down onto the latter to weigh his chances. During the time he'd trained in the academy, he'd received top marks in almost every fields, and was highly envied by his classmates. He'd never really put all of his effort into training, he saw it more as a 'hobby' of sorts, yet he was somehow exceptionally good. Perhaps this natural talent would help him win...?

The door to Roshan's little room opened, and in rushed his mother, father, and Anika, each with the same gleeful smile on their face.

"Roshan, you did it!" His mother threw her arms around him for the third time that day, this time actually lifting him up from his seat and swinging him around in her arms. Roshan couldn't help but laugh at her joy...when she was happy, it was hard to be sad.

"You're going to be one of the best Victors in history, Roshan." Said his father, as he clapped a hand Roshan's shoulder. He looked down at his son with a seldom-seen twinkle in his eye. "We're proud of you."

Even Anika seemed overjoyed, as she shyly grinned at her younger brother.

"I've seen your academy grades...you're fantastic. You're getting higher marks than...than I've ever gotten."

Roshan's eyes went side. "Wow, really?"

Anika nodded. "I was never good with blunt weaponry. But you're pretty much good at...everything I sucked at."

He chuckled. "Everything except those essays they gave us. I think I've still got cramps in my hand!"

Anika laughed, planting a tiny kiss on his forehead.

"We've got to go, little bro. But we'll see you in a few weeks, alright?"

Roshan immediately nodded. "Yep, see you soon!"

After exchanging final supportive glances, Roshan's family exited the little room, leaving Roshan alone.

His mind was made up. Roshan was going to dominate that arena...and come back a Victor.

* * *

 **Emerald Shine**

 **District 1 Female**

 **Age: 18**

 **7:00 AM**

"Oh, hurry up, Iliad! We don't have all day!" Howled the blonde-haired girl, as a quivering older woman delicately painted her nails.

"I-I'm sorry, miss, I just-"

"You're always making excuses. First you're 'sick', then your 'arthritis is acting up', lie after lie after lie! I'm sick of your excuses, Iliad, just get the work done!" She thrusted her unpainted nail towards the hired nail artist, but made contact with the nail polish brush as she did so. Deep red polish was smeared across the length of her hand, earning a gasp from from both Iliad and her client.

" _Now_ look what you've done!" The older woman cowered in shame and fear as Emerald stood from her seat, screeching in fury. "Damn it, Iliad, can't you do anything right?"

"Miss Emerald, I-I can fix it-"

" _No!_ I don't want you in this house any longer! You're fired! Take your garbage and go!" Emerald whacked aside the bottle of nail polish, which soared through the air and shattered against a nearby wall. Emerald rushed out of the room, face contorted in rage, as she examined her failed manicure.

"Ebony, Scarlette, clean up the mess in the guest room. Patrice, Olivine, I'll be in the spa room waiting for my treatment. You better be up there before I am!" Servants began to bustle about the enormous house as Emerald crowed her orders, looking very frantic.

Secretly, Emerald admired the chaos she caused. It gave her a sense of authority, commanding others.

Once Emerald had climbed two flights of stairs and reaches the spa room, she was a bit disappointed to see that her spa specialists had arrived before her, as she'd instructed.

"Alright, I'll do a fifteen-minute deep tissue massage. Make sure you use your thumbs." With no warning at all, Emerald began to strip off her bedclothes, until she was completely nude before the specialists. They hurriedly turned their backs and faced the wall, and Emerald frowned.

"What? Do I have an ugly body?" She cackled madly and rested on the massage table before her, draping a towel over her lower half. Quickly, the masseuse team got to work rubbing her back, whilst a single masseuse rubbed her feet.

"Ahh, that's the ticket." Emerald settled into the chai, allowing her eyes to flutter shut. "You know, today has been _soooo_ stressful. I had to fire my nail artist." She raised her left hand, which still bore the slash of red polish. "Such a clumsy old hag."

"Thats rather unfortunate, miss." One masseuse quietly responded.

"I know, right? Thank god she's gone. She was a day away from kicking the bucket anyways."

At that rather awkward moment, the door to the spa opened, and the rest of Emerald's family strutted in. It consisted of her mother, father, and her younger brother, Silver.

"Hello, sweetie." Smiled Mr. Shine. "Are you enjoying your massage?"

"Actually, yes, I am. This team is quite skilled."

"Thats good to hear." He cleared his throat. "Anyways, pumpkin, we're leaving in a few moments, so you best finish up your massage..."

"Awh, daddy..." Moaned Emerald, who gazed at her father out of the corner of her eye. "Can't I just finish up this massage? It's _soooo_ luxurious."

Mr. Shine glanced at his wife, who shrugged indignantly.

"...Of course, sweetheart! We'll be outside in the car when you're ready."

"Oh, thank you, daddy! You know, I'm going to need my skin to look extra soft when I head onstage..."

It took a moment for Emerald's parents to process what she'd just said. Of course, when they finally realized her intentions, there was an outburst of glee.

"Oh my goodness, Emerald...you're going to volunteer?" Asked Mr. Shine, excitement dancing in his eyes.

"Yes, Daddy! I'm going to win the games and make you guys proud!" Said Emerald triumphantly.

"What wonderful news, darling!" Crooned Mrs. Shine. "In that case, take all the time you need. We'll be in the car waiting."

"Thanks, mama! I'll be out soon!" The moment the family left the room, Emerald didn't hesitate to brag to her servants.

"Just imagine it all! The riches, the fame, the glory..." Emerald sighed as mountains of gold danced through her head, along with dreams of being interviewed, praised, ⎌and adored by the Capitol.

"I'll be the richest girl in the world! Well, if I'm not already " She giggled childishly, but then frowned. "Maybe them, I can hire a team of spa specialists that actually use their thumbs like I asked."

The team hastily began to rub Emerald's back with their thumbs, who smirked and settled back into her chair. Today was her day...her day to shine.

It took Emerald an astonishing 45 minutes to get ready. After her massage, she insisted on applying several thick layers of makeup, and dousing herself in a nauseating perfume that smelled of artificial passion fruit. Once she flounced outside, donned in a sparkly, pink translucent dress with matching heels, the family sped off in their fancy automobile.

"Emerald, I can't believe you're volunteering!" Piped Mr. Shine, who was so excited he could hardly drive. "Just think of it...your name and photograph alongside the Victors of the past! Mags Flanagan, Petra Doth, Susie Collins...soon, you'll be their bretheren!"

"It's a ticket to high society, winning these games" commented Mrs. Shine. "We can move to a luxurious mansion in the Capitol, attend the president's famous dinners...all you have to do is win!"

"Mom, Dad," Silver suddenly said, apparently jealous of the attention his sister was receiving. "When I get older...I think I'm going to volunteer, too!"

"Then you better start attending your training sessions, Silver." Scolded Mrs. Shine, who watched the color drain from her son's face. "Don't think you have us fooled, we know you've been sneaking off to the schoolyard every Saturday."

"I, uh..."

"Save it." Mrs. Shine told him, as the car slowly came to a stop. The family quickly exited the vehicle and glanced around, simultaneously ensuring that they were the best-dressed out of everyone there.

"Alright. Silver, Emerald, you'll head over to the bloodtesting lines, you should know where they are by now. Your mother and I are heading over to the spectator seating, we'll see you afterwards. Especially you, Emerald." He gave his daughter a wink, patted his son on the head, and strutted away, arm-in-arm with his wife.

Silver immediately turned and walked towards the boys' line, still fuming about the excess attention given to Emerald. Emerald herself could've cared less, though, and she simply flounced her way over to the girls' line. As she took her place, she was surprised to find that her best friend, Jewel, was directly in front of her.

"Jewel!" She tapped her on the shoulder, and Jewel instantly spun around.

"Oh, Emerald, darling!" She placed a friendly kiss on either of Emerald's cheeks. "How have you been?"

"Well, today is absolutely divine, considering that I'm going to volunteer!"

Jewel gasped."Oh my word, how splendid! You're wearing a marvelous outfit, too, everyone will love it. My mother," a dirty grimace grossed her face. "...has insisted that I wear this." She pointed to her gown, which Emerald thought suited her nicely. It was a little yellow sundress, patterned with white flowers, and completed with a white ribbon tied into a bow around the waist.

"What's wrong with it, Jewel? It looks like quite the charming little outfit, if I do say so myself."

"Look!" Jewels promptly pointed to her bodice, which was studded with...oh my...

" _Buttons?"_ Hissed Emerald, gesturing towards the four white buttons that lined down the bodice.

"Yes, can you believe it? I look like a peasant in this getup!"

"Its alright, Jewel, you can take it off when this is over..."

"Arm."

"Oh, hush up, you hag." Muttered Jewel, who stuck out her hand to the doctor before her. Two stings later, Jewel and Emerald were walking hand-in-hand to the girls' half of the audience, taking their places between two girls from their school.

" _Ugh, these women smell of sweat and unkempt teeth._ " Whispered Emerald.

" _I know! Hopefully their breath doesn't suffocate us._ " Jewel quipped, and the two giggled in unison.

At that moment, the escort found her way onstage; Belinda Baubles, who of course was wearing a ridiculous neon patchwork dress.

"Good morning, District 1!" The audience instantly quieted themselves down, focusing their attention on the spectacle of a woman before them. "This is Belinda Baubles, coming to you all the way from the Capitol!"

 _"If I was her employer, frankly, I'd send her back_!" Whispered Jewel, earning another giggle from Emerald.

"This year, two lucky ducks here will be chosen for the Hunger Games, alongside the chance to bring pride to your family...and your district!" The audience erupted into joyous cheering, and Belinda smiled.

"Wow, aren't you excited? Well, let's get to it, shall we? Ladies first!" Belinda chirped, and she strutted over to the crystal bowl holding the names of the ladies. For awhile, she fished about, passing certain slips over and doting over others, before finally making her choice.

"Glitt Barrows!"

"I volunteer!" Cried Emerald, who thrust her fist into the air. A rush of adrenaline filled her following these words, and she glanced at Jewel. Her best friend was smiling proudly at her, while the rest of the crowd gazed at her in curiosity.

Emerald tore her gaze away from her friend and ran upstage, almost laughing with joy. Once she took her place next to Belinda and her blonde locks had settled themselves over her shoulder, Belinda took the mic again.

"Ooh my, eager, aren't we? Young lady, might you tell us your name?" Belinda raised the microphone to Emerald' waiting lips.

"Emerald Shine!" She proudly proclaimed. "And I'm so, so thrilled to be here today!"

Belinda gave her a glaringly white smile. smile. "And we're thrilled to have _you_ , Emerald."

The words reverberated through Emerald's body, and she was having a difficult time keeping still. Pure joy was coursing through her body, pumping her up and forcing a smile onto her face.

Perhaps Emerald would have stayed in her state of ecstasy forever, if the male tribute wasn't so...interesting.

She didn't even hear Belinda call his name. So, when the nameless stranger walked stiffly upstage, Emerald wished she'd been listening. It's not that she thought he was handsome, no...he was tall, muscular, and strong...she imagined driving a sword fight through his body, and the image was delectable. Blood pooling on the ground beneath him, the life slowly draining his eyes as Emerald stood over him, high and mighty...she couldn't help but lick her lips at the enchanting thought.

Once the male tribute took his place, Belinda finished off the reaping by saying, "Here they are, this year's District 1 tributes!" The audience broke into tumultuous applause once again, and Emerald couldn't help but laugh. This was the best day of her life!

Soon enough, peacekeepers seemed to materialize out of thin air, and they hurriedly escorted Emerald to a private meetup room. It offered her several places to so on the comfortable-looking furniture, but Emerald was much too excited to sit down.

Her family burst through the door, and Emerald wasted no time throwing herself into her father's arms.

"Oh, daddy, this is amazing!" She pried herself away. "I'm going to become famous!"

"Yes you are, my dear, yes you are." He smiled at his daughter, pride shimmering in his eyes. "Honey, do you have the-"

"Token?" Mrs. Shine smiled, pulling a golden bracelet from her dress pocket. "Why yes, yes I do." She carefully slid it onto her daughter's wrist, while Silver watched from behind.

"Oh, mother, it's beautiful! See the way it shines in the light!"

"It belonged to me once. Perhaps you may wear it during your interview."

"Of course I will, mother! And I'll be thinking of you all the while." Though she'd never liked her mother as much as she liked her father, Emerald threw herself into her mother's arms with a rush of joy.

The door opened once more, and in walked Jewel, smiling from ear to ear. The moment she caught sight of her friend, Emerald rushed over to her, planting a kiss on her nose.

"This is amazing, Jewel!"

"I know, Emmie, you're going to be a Victor! If anyone could win, it's you." She smiled faintly, before pulling a pen from the pocket of her dress.

"What're you doing?" Asked Emerald.

"You'll see." Replied Jewel, who took Emerald's forearm in her hand. With the pen, she carefully drew half of a heart on the exposed skin, handing the pen to Emerald afterwards.

"Now, you draw it on my arm." Emerald giggled and complied, drawing the heart's second half on Jewel's skin.

"This way, whenever we see the heart, we'll think of one another." Jewel explained, blushing lightly.

"What a fantastic idea!" Emerald praised her, admiring her own half of the heart. "You really are full of surprises, Jewel."

"Emerald, our time is nearly up, we best be going." Explained Mr. Shine. He wrapped his daughter in one final hug, before escorting his wife out the door. Jewel followed suit, casting one last glance at her best friend before turning the corner and heading away.

"Until then, my love!" Called Mr. Shine.

"Until then!" Emerald cried, who suddenly took notice of Silver still in the room.

"Silver, what's wrong? Why are you still here?"

He said nothing, instead keeping his head towards the ground.

"...Silver?" Emerald gently prodded his shoulder, and Silver's head shot up, his intense gaze heading into Emerald's wide eyes and freezing her in her place.

" _I hope you die_." He hissed, in a snake-like tone. Before Emerald could even comprehend what he'd said, Silver darted away, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

 **Oh, Silver, don't be so jealous.**

 **Hey, everyone! More reaping chapters are on the way, I hope you liked this one!**


	6. District 2 Reaping

**The Presidential Mansion**

 **12:20 AM**

"Interesting pair, those two." Observed Aria, swirling her nearly-empty glass of wine. "The girl is rather enthusiastic, and the boy..." She squinted at the screen. "I'm not sure what to think of him yet."

"I'm certain you'll gain a full understanding at the parade, your majesty." Peter said, filling Aria's glass with more sparkling wine. "You'll be given a full balcony view, where you may view the tributes at ease."

"True, true." The President sipped the beverage, allowing the taste to linger over her tongue before taking yet another full. It was creamy, delicious, and refreshing. "Peter, do me a favor and play the District 2 reaping."

"Already on it, madam president."

* * *

 **Argus Naggia**

 **District 2 Male**

 **Age: 14**

 **7:00 AM**

" _Argus! Argus, help me!_ "

" _Grab my hand!_ "

" _I don't want to go! Don't let them take me!_ "

" _Sky!_ "

" _Argus!_ "

The boy sat bolt upright in bed, clutching the sheets and sweating heavily. These past few nights, vivid dreams had been tormenting him, making it nearly impossible to gain any rest. Fumbling in the new light of morning, he placed his sweaty palm against his bare chest, feeling the steady _thrum-thrum_ of his heart beneath the skin.

Next to his bed on a tattered nightstand sat a pile of old letters, each one addressed to him in careful cursive writing. He chose one at random and opened it:

 _Dear Argus,_

 _It's getting worse here. I thought there was some sort of fund put aside for emergencies but I guess there isn't. The woman has made me work long hours fishing to earn extra money, but it's still not enough. Her husband spends all the cash on whiskey and yells at his wife if she tells him to stop._

 _How are you doing? Is the house still there? Please write back, and don't do the thing we talked about. It's not worth it._

 _Eat for me, okay?_

 _With Love,_

 _Sky_

Argus sighed deeply and pressed the letter to his chest. It'd been three and a half weeks since he relieved his last letter from his sister, and nothing else had been sent yet. He'd checked the mail every day, waiting for some sign from her, but all he received were bills that constantly reminded him how in debt he was. Of course he received some consolation money when his parents passed away, but those funds soon ran out, and Argus had nowhere to go. His parents had been too in debt when they passed to leave Argus any significant monetary value, so Argus spent his days dreading the upcoming time when he would be forced out of his home and forced into an orphanage. His twin sister had already been given the treatment, but she was sent to an orphanage in another district...what if he's sent somewhere even farther away from home?

No, no, Argus couldn't think about these types of things now. What he should be considering was the plan, the one he talked about with Sky. It was a long shot, but what did he have to lose?

His heart settled someone in his stomach, yet Argus managed to ignore his feelings of inner torment. He'd been doing so for years, so he was rather skilled in the art of subduing his emotions. It was how he'd stayed so strong in the years following the death of his parents.

Sky was all Argus had left, and he would do anything within his power to keep her safe. This meant doing things that she may not agree with...like 'the plan'.

Argus had quickly made up his mind. If it would keep Sky safe, Argus was willing to give his plan his best shot. So, Argus stomached his fears andclimbed out of bed, to prepare for the reaping.

Not much clothing was left for Argus after his parents passed, so he wore a simple gray shirt with tattered blue jeans and hoped he looked appropriate enough. Of course, he got a few judgements like glances as he strode down the street, but no one said anything; Argus had quite the tough, steely reputation throughout the District as a result of keeping his feelings hidden within, so no one had the gall to mess with him.

That was fine. Argus didn't really care for people, anyways.

When he arrived at the reaping, Argus glanced about at the crowd surrounding him. It was filled with a variety of children, elders, mothers and fathers...

 _"Mom, why do I hafta wear this suit?"_

 _"Because, sweetie, this is an important event. You have to look your best."_

 _"Sky gets to wear a dress!"_

 _"Well if you wanted a dress, you should've told us before."_

 _"I didn't even know we were going till now!"_

 _"Oh, calm down, Argus. It's just for an hour or so."_

 _"But it's itchy..."_

The memory surfaced in Argus's mind and left as quickly as it came. He always had a hard time remembering his mother, but now the faint details were beginning to refine themselves in the haze; gentle, thin hands, a warm smile, soft hair. He couldn't remember her face exactly, but he could remember her in a sense, how she made him feel...she provided security and love, something that Argus never had known he was missing...

 _"Well, too bad."_ Argus muttered to himself. " _She's dead and I need to get over it."_

"Um, young man?"

Argus spun around to face the source of the voice; the district mayor, a chubby man with a walrus-like mustache.

"You best be getting into the bloodtest line, the escort takes the stage in about..." He checked the golden watch on his wrist. "...Five minutes or so."

"O-oh, uh..." Argus shuffled his feet. "Thanks, sir."

"What was that?"

But Argus was already off, hurriedly trotting away from the mayor and towards the shortening line of boys waiting to have their blood tested. By the time he had reached the front, Argus could hear a booming voice filling the stadium.

"Good morning, District 2! This is Meritt O'Clause, coming to you all the way from the Capitol!" Argus rushed to his respective position as an ear-splitting roar of applause emitted from the audience, who were all rather eager to serve their district.

"My, my, you all seem rather joyous, hm? Well, let's waste no further time and get started! Ladies first!" Fortunately, Argus managed to find a place to stand just as Meritt had plucked the female tribute's name from the bowl. She examined it in the faint rays of sunlight, which bounced gleamingly off her well-done manicure.

"Hm...Alia Gaajra?"

"Son of a bitch!" A girl's voice crowed, and the girls broke into a rain of giggles. The girls parted to make way for Alia, who seemed to be rather chipper in the heat of the moment. She casually stepped onstage, taking her place to the right of Meritt and waiting patiently.

"You've got quite the sailor's mouth there, haven't you?" Meritt pursed her lips, as Alia smirked. "Do we have any volunteers?"

The crowd seemed to deem Alia fit for the task of competing in the games, to which she responded with a quick raise of the middle finger. Meritt gasped horribly and the audience broke into laughter once more, something that managed to set Argus's slight nerves at seas.

"Well, now, enough of _that_." Spat Meritt, who was puckering her lips as though she'd just tasted something particularly sour. "Hopefully our male tribute is a bit more refined."

The last of Argus's joy dissipated into the morning air, and he solemnly kicked a nearby pebble aside, reminding himself that this was for the benefit of Sky and himself.

Meritt seemed a bit reluctant to choose the male tribute, apparently afraid that the other would be just as crude. Carefully, she plucked out a slip of paper between forefinger and thumb, trotting back to the microphone and reciting the name aloud:

"Hugh Janus."

"...I volunteer." Argus raised a fist into the air and began making his way down the aisle of boys, who all stared at him as he passed by. Silence took hold over the square as Argus slowly but surely climbed up the stairs that led to the stage.

"Oh, we seem to have a volunteer!" Smiled Merrit, who was rather pleased at his silent manner. "Young man, what is your name?" She raise the microphone to his lips.

"I, uh...Argus Naggia." He coughed. Even over the speakers, he was barely audible.

"Well, ladies, here we have them! This year's District 2 tributes!" The audience broke into a polite round of applause, this one much quieter than the first. Now that he was up here, able to see all the other strong, muscular males that could have gone in his place...Argus regretted his decision. Then, he remembered what Sky had said in her letter. She hadn't a place to sleep, or any time to herself. She was treated like garbage with her adoptive family. Sky needed the winning money, Argus needed it too, so they could recouperate and be a family once more.

At last, Alia and Argus were escorted offstage, into private meetup rooms where they may say their final goodbyes to their families. Argus's room contained a singular plush loveseat, which he gratefully sat down on.

Argus waited the whole ten minutes he was allowed to say goodbye. The door that he entered through only opened again when he boarded the train.

* * *

 **Poor Argus! I feel bad for him.**

 **As you may remember, Alia is the Bloodbath tribute I used as an example in an earlier chapter, and I've stated before that Bloodbath tributes won't get their own chapters revolving around them; they'll have their character expressed through the POV's focusing on non-Blood wth tributes.**

 **So, that's it for this chapter, on to District 3! Thanks for reading!**


	7. District 4 Reaping

**Hey, everyone! I apologize for the delay on this chapter, I've been sort of pre-occupied as of late; my great-grandmother recently passed away, and I had to attend her funeral and meet with the family to cheer one another up on a weekly basis or so. I kind of got bummed out after I found out, even though we weren't too close, so forgive me, please.**

* * *

 **The Presidential Mansion**

 **12:25 AM**

"The girl doesn't seem like anything important." Quipped President Aria. "I'd say she's Bloodbath fodder. However, the male...his name sounds rather familiar."

"H-his twin was reaped for District 4, madam." Peter quickly explained, taking control of the television. "They share the same last name, Naggia."

"Oh." Said Aria softly, as she sipped her wine. "How interesting. A brother and sister duo. They'll make for a great show. Much more interesting than those lifeless bags of bones from District 3, wise decision skipping that pair...Peter?"

"Yes, madam?" The loyal servant answered.

"Bring up a holographic conference with Gamemaker Tolius as soon as possible. There are some matters I'd like to discuss with her."

"Of course, ma'am. I'll go fetch the projector." Peter strode towards the heavy oaken doors, leading to the maze-like halls of the mansion.

"Oh, Peter, before you go?"

He spun around to face President Aria at once.

"Yes, ma'am?"

She raised her crystalline chalice, finishing off the final dregs that sat in the bottom of the cup.

"Another glass of wine, please."

* * *

 **Oceanus Dock**

 **District 4 Male**

 **Age: 16**

 **6:00 AM**

A young man sits at an oaken dinner table, dressed in his best blue suit and tie. The morning light shines faintly through grime-coated windows, and the nearby sound of the ocean is calming to him. It's a sound he's heard all his life, alongside the cheery chirps and squeaks of dolphins frolicking through the sea.

Suddenly, the door to the house burst open, and a man in a woman strode inside, working together to haul in the biggest dogfish Oceanus had ever seen. It appeared to be dead, judging by the limpness of the body and the two bloodied holes in the sides.

"Good morning, Oceanus!" Called Oceanus's mother, as she and her husband maneuvered the prize towards the kitchen counter. "Happy reaping day!"

"Hey mom, hey dad. What's the dogfish for?"

"Well, your mom and I decided that tonight we'd make ourselves a treat." Mr. Dock slid the beast onto the counter, wiping his hands on his pants and striding over to his son as Mrs. Dock began to prepare a lemon juice marinate. "You know, considering that tonight our son is leaving for the Capitol." He ruffled Oceanus's chestnut hair affectionately.

"Aw, thanks, dad. Just wish I could have some of that dogfish." He smacked his lips. "Never tried any of those before."

Mr. Dock chuckled. "Well, don't worry. When you come back, there'll be a piping hot plate of dogfish, waiting for you right here." He slid his finger against the wood grain of the table.

"Triton!" Called Mrs. Dock from the kitchen. "Come help me squeeze the lemons."

"Be right there!" Giving his son a final pat on the shoulder, Mr. Dock left to assist his wife, leaving Oceanus alone.

Once he was gone, Oceanus fished around his neck for the thin metal chain hidden beneath his shirt, and quickly pulled it out into his palm. It was a necklace, featuring a polished little seashell in place of the usual medallion; his token. He'd received it that morning, shortly before his parents left to fetch their dinner for tonight.

"Here, Oceanus." Mrs. Dock had said, placing the cold metal chain in her son's palm. "This is your token. Pretty, huh?"

Oceanus had admired the orange and white stripes that ran up the little shell, and thanked his mother profusely. But now, he wondered where the little shell had come from, and what significance it held. What about the shell made it worthy to become his token?

"Oceanus, your ready to go?" Mrs. Dock asked, as she set the dogfish on the counter. It was sitting in a marinate of bright yellow lemon juice, a sight that made Oceanus's mouth water. He wished he would be there to enjoy it.

Mrs. Dock followed her son's wide-eyed gaze and smiled.

"Yes, I know, the dogfish looks delicious, but we'll catch another for you when you get back home." She strode over from the kitchen, planting a kiss on her son's cheek. "God, you're getting so big."

"Awh, mom." He blushed, and suddenly there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it, don't worry." Oceanus hurried open to the door and swung it open, finding a familiar figure standing there; a tall, brown-haired boy with a tanned complexion, whom Oceanus immediately recognized.

"Finn! Hey!"

"What's up, Oceanus?" Finn wrapped his arms around his best friend in a tight hug, and Oceanus couldn't help but blush; he'd had feelings for Finn for years now, which had thankfully gone unnoticed. "I heard you were going to volunteer!"

"Yep, it's true!" He puffed up his chest proudly. "I'm gonna become a Victor."

"That's awesome! Don't forget me when you become famous, though." Finn winked and gave Oceanus a light shove, causing the two to break into laughter. "Anyways, my folks said I could walk to the reaping with you guys...is that cool?"

"Of course, dude!"

A mischievous smile slithered across Finn's face, and Oceanus's eyes immediately went wide. Finn seized his best friend's arm and dragged him outside, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.

He leaned in close, his hot breath tickling the shell of Oceanus's ear.

"Then, let's go ahead of the rest." His grip tightened slightly. "Just you and me."

 **-15 Minutes Later-**

"Say, Oceanus, will you let me move into your fancy house in the Victor's Square once you come back?" Asked Finn with a smirk.

Oceanus coughed and glanced to the side so as to conceal the bright red blush that still plagued his face.

"Y-yeah." He coughed. "Yeah, of course. Being roomies would be fun."

For the past fifteen minutes, Finn had been bombarding Oceanus with sly, slightly risqué questions that did nothing to aid in Oceanus's desperate efforts to hide his reddened cheeks. Whether he was doing this on purpose, Oceanus had no idea, but he prayed the awkward torment would cease soon.

"Hm...roomies." Finn mulled over the flavor of the word. "You know what, that sounds like a good idea. I'm going to love having someone as big and strong as you living with me."

"...Why, exactly?" A flurry of images swarmed to the surface of Oceanus's mind, which he quickly subdued with a giveaway blush.

Finn slumped against Oceanus's shoulder, a faint smolder gracing his face. Oceanus couldn't deny that he was handsome, so handsome in fact that Oceanus himself soubted his appearance when in the presence of Finn. And Oceanus was no commoner; he was often praised for his chiseled jawline and finely made facial features.

"To kill the spiders, of course!" A grin replaced the smirk, and Finn straightened himself up. They give me the creeps."

Oceanus could detect no note of a deeper meaning to this statement, which both relieved and slightly disappointed him. He felt his blush dissipate at once, and an unknown stress he'd had in his spine released itself.

"You're seriously still scared of spiders?" Oceanus snorted. "They're just bugs."

"But they're bugs with eight legs and the ability to _kill_." Finn shivered. "And humans swallow about 20 per year in their sleep..."

"Eh, that's okay. I didn't need to sleep anyways."

At this point, the two had made their way to the Square, which was of course packed with District 4 citizens all in their finest garb. The boys managed to meander inside with ease, pausing for a moment to drink in their surroundings.

"You didn't see my parents, huh, Finn?"

He shook his head. "They're probably behind us still. It's fine, though. The reaping doesn't start until-"

A voice boomed out from over an enormous, unseen speaker.

" _All children between the ages of twelve and eighteen, please make your way to the designated sections of the crowd. The readings shall commence in ten minutes."_

"There, ten minutes. They'll be here by then."

"But what if they-"

"Don't worry about it!" Finn seized Oceanus's arm in a vice-like grip, toting him towards one of the various bloodtesting stations scattered far before the stage. "Come on! We don't wanna be late!"

Though Oceanus expected it, Finn didn't reattempt his sky banter during the waiting period. Rather, he struck up a casual conversation regarding the weather and various political happenings, which Oceanus happily partook in.

"-died a few weeks ago, didn't he? That means his children are next in line, but last I checked they both made it very clear they wanted nothing to do with the presidency. They've got a daughter though, I forget her name-oh, my bad, here's my arm-anyways, she might be the one to take his place, unless-ouch!-one of her parents decides to step up..." Finn babbled, gently rubbing his arm where the blood had been withdrawn.

"Eh, we'll find out who's claimed the position once I get my crown. Ouch!" Oceanus jerked his thumb away from the harsh paper, wincing at the bloodied print he'd left. A woman scanned the said print with some sort of Capitol device, then ushered Oceanus behind her.

"Oh, you and your crown." Clucked Finn.

"What, you're not happy for me?" Frowned Oceanus.

"Of course I am!" He exclaimed. "It's just...the arena is dangerous, y'know? Twenty-three people are going to die there..."

"And I'm going to be the one that survives!"

"I know, I know!" Finn defended himself, wide-eyed, as he and Oceanus settled into a spot wedged between two boys of the same age in the audience. "Believe me, I know your capabilities. I'm just...worried about you, is all."

"Worried about me? Do you think I'm going to die?"

"No, that's not what I mean. I don't think you're 'weak' or anything, I just..." He sighed. "Nevermind."

"No, I want to know what you meant!" Oceanus persisted, only to be cut-off by a booming voice from onstage.

"Hello, District 4! This is Iridesca Floundt, coming to you all the way from the Capitol!" The escort was just as she'd been in the years prior; oddly dressed, heavily makeup-ed, and glistening from the heavy amounts of plastic where her flesh and skin should've been. "Can I get a cheer?"

Iridesca quickly found that this year's lot was much more civilized than the last. Rather than bursting into animalistic screeches and hoots, the audience politely applauded to her requests. A smile spread across her face, for she knew this was going to be easy.

"Well! Let's get started then, shall we?" She cooed. "As usual...ladies first." Despite their unrelenting efforts, Iridesca's high heels did nothing to stagger her movements, and she meandered to the crystalline bowl with ease.

For a moment or two, she searched around the bowl, finely-manicured hands flipping and twirling like dancers. At last, the fateful slip of paper was plucked from its place, and Iridesca hummed with satisfaction.

"Here we are, the little dickens was caught at last. Are you ready for the first lucky tribute?" Iridesca did not wait for a response, for she too found herself brimming with anticipation, and so the words suddenly flew from her lips:

"Sky Naggia."

A quiet young lady quickly made herself known in the crowd. She was stunningly beautiful, in the way that her soft black waves tumbled about her shoulders, and in the manner that her silver eyes flitted about. With her plump reddened lips, she could easily be mistaken for a princess.

Sky did not fight, much to her escort's pleasure. Rather, she walked up to the stage with a casual way of holding herself, as though today were just as common as any other. The only sounds that could be heard as she took her place were the whistling of the winds overhead and the distant chatter of local seagulls.

"Ah, there you are, you pretty thing!" Praised Iridesca. "Ready for our male tribute?"

Sky did not respond.

"Black hair." Observed Finn, quieted greatly by the tension between Oceanus and himself. "How did _that_ happen?"

Oceanus shrugged in response. "Never seen her around school." He silenced himself once he caught sight of Iridesca's well-practiced hands fishing around the second bowl, eagerly anticipating his moment of glory.

"Hm, who do we have here..." The escort clucked her painted lips. "...Iyam Abich?"

"I volunteer!" Proclaimed Oceanus, who lingered in his place for a moment to drink in the stares sent his way. For a second, his gaze entertained with Finn's, who had the oddest expression of awe and blankness upon his face. He didn't quite understand this, but Oceanus didn't let that ruin his moment in the spotlight. Slowly, so as to draw himself some more onlookers, Oceanus swaggered up the stage steps and took his place next to Iridesca.

"We seem to have a volunteer!" She chimed, eyeing him up and down. "What's your name?"

"Oceanus Dock! But in a few weeks, you'll be calling me...the sole survivor!" This was said so loudly that the speakers overhead hissed, and many audience members clutched their ears so as to cover them.

"Oh my!" Iridesca grinned. "Confident, aren't we? Well, ladies and gentlemen, here they are...this year's District 4 tributes!"

The applause that followed suit filled Oceanus like a sweet drink. All around him, people were clapping, showing their admiration and their trust in him to bring pride to their home. These people were his fans, his admirers, his _followers_...and the attention, he loved it all.

However, his peak of glory soon crested as Oceanus was hurriedly shoved offstage by a seemingly armed peacekeeper, and then pushed into a well-decorated room backstage. In a matter of moments, the rest of the Dock family joined him, each one them wrapping him in a warm hug.

"Ah! Mom, dad, please! You're wrinkling the suit!"

"My apologies, Oceanus." Smiled his mother as she swiftly pulled away, her husband following suit. "We're just...so proud of you!"

"I'm quite proud of myself too, to be frank." His eyes flitted about. "Where's Finn?"

"I'm not sure." Answered Mr. Dock. "I didn't see him come up here."

Oceanus's heart dropped slightly. "You don't think he's gonna come say goodbye?"

"Well, it's not really goodbye, is it?" Mrs. Dock pointed out. "You'll be seeing him again in a matter of weeks."

"Oh, right. Thanks mom."

A light suddenly reflected against the metal chain of Oceanus's necklace, which caught Mrs. Dock's attention.

"Oh! Your necklace..." Her thin fingers wrapped themselves around the chain and clasped it tightly. "I never told you what makes it so special, did I?"

"No, mother. What is it?" Oceanus's voice quivered like the plucked strings of a violin, as he strained his ears to pick up the words his mother was about to utter.

"This necklace..." She sighed, gently sliding her hands down to discover the crevices that lay in the tiny folds of the seashell pendant. "Before, it was a simple item for sale at the local market. A copy of many others. But this necklace...though it may look like all the rest, this is no ordinary accessory. You know why?"

"No, mother." Oceanus wet his lips. "Why?"

"This necklace, it's special because it's going to belong to a Victor."

The words reverberated slightly around the confined area, and at last Oceanus's mother allowed the chain to slip from between her gentle fingers, the shell coming to rest directly over Oceanus's heart.

Mr. Dock placed a beefy hand on his wife's shoulder, gazing at his child with pride.

"We're proud of you, son. See you in a few weeks." With a final exchanging of smiles, the husband and wife left the lavishly decorated room in silence.

Oceanus's ego had been enlarged before, but now he was quite sure it bore stretch marks. Plopping himself down into a puffy armchair, he allowed his eyes to shut so he may fantasize the wonders of his future; money, jewels, fame...and not to mention, his own name etched in the historical records of every Victor that ever was. His name, next to those of the greats!

The daydream was cut short when the little door suddenly slammed open. For a split second, Oceanus expected there to be an ensemble of peacekeepers there to escort him to the train, but the person that was standing there was a much more pleasant surprise.

"Finn!" Oceanus cried, as his best friend hurriedly made his way to the armchair in which Oceanus sat. "You didn't show up, I thought-"

His words were stopped by a pair of lips.

The sensation was unusual; warm, soft pressure against Oceanus's own mouth, the gentle brushes of Finn's hair against Oceanus's forehead, and the unseen forces that forced both of the boys' eyes shut in the moment.

It was over far too soon. Finn pulled himself away, a sudden expression of seriousness etched in every facial feature. He and Oceanus, who had grown speechless, were merely inches away.

"Hey," Finn's voice was low and husky. "Don't die." He took one final glance into Oceanus's deep brown eyes, before leaping up and sprinting back out the door from which he'd came.

Oceanus was stunned. Simply stunned. Had Finn known about his feelings this entire time? Was that his form of a parting gift? Did he not believe that Oceanus could make it out of the arena alive? While he may not have known the answers to these questions, Oceanus was sure of one thing; if someone had the potential to shut down such a powerful fantasy, to put out an overwhelming sense of confidence as easily as if it were a dampened match, and with a mere kiss...then, Oceanus knew he'd definitely chosen the right boy to fall for.

* * *

 **Sky Naggia**

 **Age: 14**

 **District 4 Female**

 **6:00 AM**

The little fishing hook sat propped up against a large rock, its line cast far into the blue waters of the ocean. With every wave to hit the shore, the line swayed in time, but was never tugged nor yanked by any clueless fish. All it seemed to do was drag along the sand and allow itself to float. Sky had been watching it for hours now.

"Ey, Sky!" From a scraggly-looking beach house along the shore, a woman's voice rang out. "What're ya doing? Use your spear, ya dope!"

The weapon sat directly to the right of Sky, who was lounging tiredly in a warm patch of sand. She didn't want to use the spear, no, she'd much rather sit in the sand and allow the sun to seep into her skin. Yet she knew that Mistress Tarea would punish her if she did not obey, so Sky reluctantly took the wooden shaft in her hand and tiptoed into the warm waves until she was ankle-deep.

Sea life was all around her. About seven feet away was a sudden drop into a reef-like forest, where kelp grew and colorful fish swam about merrily. For some odd reason, they'd resisted the allure of Sky's fishing bait, which meant she was now forced to take matters into her own hands.

The spear was delicately poised in Sky's hand as her silver eyes grazed over the waters beneath her, alike to a hungry cat. In the reefs below his hundreds of fat orange fish, drifting from coral to coral. The young girl set her eyes on one, tracking its movements carefully...the waving of the fins, the flexibility of its body, the rhythmatic opening and closing of the gills...

Sky's sleek weapon cut through the water like a knife, and in mere seconds it was wriggling about, flashes of orange cascading around the sea floor. Though Sky was particularly skilled in the art of spearing, she never enjoyed watching the fish struggle after being pierced. What kind of person would?

"Sky!" Screeched the same voice from the house. "What are ye doing?"

"Just spearing, Mistress Tarea." Replied Sky in a monotonous voice.

"Good!" She replied. "Maybe ye can finally be useful! Don't just stand there, twit, get moving!"

After the years of living in District 4, and many life-or-death encounters with sea predators of all kinds, nothing scared Sky quite as much as the voice of Mistress Tarea. Within her tone, she held a rough sort of anger, and a promise of physical violence to anyone who should displease her. Naturally, this pushed Sky to obey her orders, and she leapt into the waves at once.

Bubbles clouded her vision for a moment, and she paused to let them fade away before kicking down towards her spear. It was lodged between a stone and a particularly large piece of coral, and sure enough the orange fish lay pierced on the end, limp as a wet sock. Creating waves of her own as she went, Sky carefully slid the prize off the tip of the spear, clutching it between her fingers as she kicked her way back up to the surface. Unexpectedly, Mistress Tarea stood at the shore, peering into the water to see where she'd gone.

"H'lo, Mistress Tarea!" Exclaimed Sky as she burst from the waters, casting droplets all over her Mistress's.

"Agh, Sky, look what ya done to me dress!" Mistress Tarea gestured to the soiled hem of her gown. "Get out of the water!"

Sky shrugged and pulled herself onto land, sand instantly sticking to her wet clothes and hair. Mistress Tarea clucked her tongue impatiently at this and seized Sky's arm, tugging her to her feet rather roughly.

"Look at ye...yer a sandy mess." She looked Sky up and down, who looked as limo and lifeless as a doll in her firm grasp.

"Tch." Mistress Tarea threw Sky back onto the sand, receiving little protest in response. "I expect ye to be washed up and presentable fer the reaping in a half hour. And," She slid the little fish off the edge of Sky's spear, which lay discarded in the sand. "I expect more from you than just a tiny little runt of a fish. I'd say I deserve it, considering the hospitality I offered you when no one else did."

Still, no response from Sky.

"Stupid bitch." Hissed the Mistress, who kicked an ample amount of sand over her adoptive child before heading back inside.

What she didn't know was that her words had no effect on Sky anymore. After years of cruelty and abuse (both in physical and verbal form) Sky had built up a sort-of wall against Mistress Tarea's antagonizing behavior. It's what she had to do, when she lived with a woman who told her she was nothing everyday. If she hadn't done so, she'd be nothing but a shell of her former self.

But if she was lying there in the sand, unaffected by the grains seeping INBETWEEN the folds of her clothing and the tide rolling in to wash her up, feeling nothing but absolute blankness in the body that once exuberated hope sand jubilance...was she truly living?

 **\- 45 Minutes Later -**

"Ah, there ye are." Snorted the Mistress, who was gathering her things. "It's quite surprising to see ye lookin' presentable."

Sky had just emerged from her poor excuse of a bedroom, where she'd donned one of the few articles of clothing that survived her transfer to District 4; an old black frock, with scuffed up shoes to match. Her hair had been dried to the best of her ability, and tied back with a bit of black cloth in a rather droopy ribbon.

"Thank you, Mistress Tarea." Replied Sky, in a voice devoid of emotion.

"Yer welcome." Replied the Mistress, in a rather flat way of saying so. "Now, on to the reaping."

During the walk to the square, Sky was forced to walk arm-in-arm with her Mistress, which earned her plenty of stares from passerby. Mistress Tarea insisted it was just for 'Sky's own safety', but she knew this was a lie; Sky's safety was likely the very last thing on Mistress Tarea's list of priorities. Why would she ever show love towards a child she treated as a slave?

Once the odd pair arrived, Misstress Tarea said no further words to her adoptive daughter, simply yanking her arm away and trotting off in her overexaggerated high heels.

That was fine. Sky didn't care anyways.

While Sky waited to have her blood tested, she stood as silent and still as a soldier, despite the sweat pooling under the thick fabric of her frock. A few of the girls ahead of Sky in the line could easily be heard discussing her mannerisms, and what poor choices she made in terms of fashion.

That was fine. Sky didn't care anyways.

As Sky later took her place in the audience, she couldn't help but notice that the girls to her left and right had made it a priority to step away from her, as though she were carrying some sort of disease that they must not catch. She had no friends to call her own.

That was fine. Sky didn't care anyways.

"Hello, District 4!" Chimed an oddly cheerful voice from onstage. "My name is Iridesca Floundt, coming to you all the way from the Capitol! Can I get a cheer?"

The audience responded with a simple yet enthusiastic round of applause, free of any obnoxious hoots and chants.

"Well! Let's get started then, shall we?" Said Iridesca. "Ladies first!"

For a moment, Sky recalled the basic plan that her brother had proposed to her by mail, and silently prayed that he hadn't gone through with it. Volunteering for the games was a death sentence, and Sky wasn't worth the risk. If anyone was going to head into the arena, it should be-

"Sky Naggia."

The shock only lasted for a second or two. Then, Sky fully grasped the reality of her current situation, and something she'd thought she'd lost ballooned inside of her...

She did not fight. Rather, Sky straightened her spine and walked elegantly down the aisles of staring children, and up to the stage. For the first time in months, Sky felt a true, pure emotion bubbling up inside...joy.

"Ah, there you are, you pretty little thing!" Praised Iridesca, who was admiring the sleek shininess of Sky's black hair. "Ready for our male tribute?"

Sky didn't respond, too busy absorbing the joy that flowed within her. Here she was, up on the stage, ready to leave for the Capitol! Though her face showed an expression of stillness, Sky was bursting with jubilance on the inside. She finally had the chance to compete and earn money for herself and her brother, so that they may finally live a good life and be together once more. God, it's been years since she'd seen him...the day that she was picked up by Peacekeepers, and towed away to be with Mistress Tarea. To this day, she still had no idea why her brother hadn't joined her in the cross-district transfer, but she was quite grateful now that he'd been left behind; anyone would rather be lonely and poverted than living with the dreadful Mistress.

She was so deep in thought that Sky gave a little jump at the sensation of a circle of metal against her back. It was a peacekeeper, pressing the barrel of their handgun between Sky's shoulders.

"Off the stage, little girl." He said gruffly, to which Sky quickly obeyed. The peacekeeper continuously held the gun to her back until Sky was brought into a quiet little room, filled with armchairs and love seats. Only then did he relinquish his force, as he left Sky in the room and closed the door sharply behind him.

Fear was the last emotion Sky felt in this moment. No, she was not afraid...she was happy. Grateful. Relieved. Finally, she would be able to escape the watching eyes of Mistress Tarea and be her own person, if only for a few weeks. And she would be given the opportunity to create a better life for herself and her brother. Argus...she could picture him so clearly now, his messy hair and the odd way he used to smile. He and Sky were closer than ever after the death of their parents, and she missed him dearly. A few months after living with Mistress Tarea had convinced Sky that she would never see him again, so she forbade herself to think of him to avoid any emotional weakness. But now...all she had to do was win these games.

Argus. She was going to see Argus.

For the first time in years, Sky's redenned lips curved themselves into a smile.

* * *

 **Hey, everyone! I apologize again for the wait. Also, if any of the tribute seem undeveloped, don't worry; the trip to the Capitol and the weeks following will give lots of opportunities for character development.**

 **See you soon!**


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